


Take Two (or Four) and Don't Call Me in the Morning

by ladydeathfaerie



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Secret Avengers
Genre: Everyone Is Poly Because Avengers, Language, Multi, people being badass, smut but not really, some explosions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-30
Updated: 2014-03-30
Packaged: 2018-01-17 13:12:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1388929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladydeathfaerie/pseuds/ladydeathfaerie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Maria Hill is kidnapped at a conference, it is up to her closest friends and allies to discover who has taken her, why they've taken her, and then get her back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take Two (or Four) and Don't Call Me in the Morning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dazzledfirestar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dazzledfirestar/gifts).



"Can you walk us through what happened one more time, Director?" 

She takes a deep breath and counts to fifty. She's getting tired of that question, but it is protocol. After any agent has been taken, it is standard operating procedure to question and question and question again. To ensure that the agent hasn't been compromised during their confinement. The rules are in place for a reason and it will look really bad if the head of S.H.I.E.L.D. can't be bothered to follow the rules. Holding on to her sigh, Maria looks the questioning agent straight in the eye and starts all over again. "I was at a meeting when the first explosion went off."

Slowly, with great care, Maria recounts the story of how more than half a dozen men from some lettered outfit armed with about a thousand pounds of hardware had managed to storm her meeting, kill the agents acting as her bodyguards along with a dozen or so other people, and then take her hostage. She recounts the story of how they'd beaten her up, broken a couple fingers, and demanded that she answer their questions repeatedly. She recounts how she'd repeatedly denied them their answers. And then she recounts how a small rescue team had stormed the compound where the bad guys from the lettered outfit had taken her. 

She talks steadily for more than an hour, answering every question her agents ask of her. She tells the story again. And again. Each telling fills in more of the smaller, finer details without deviating from the bigger, important details at all. As she speaks, medical personnel check over each and every bruise she has, takes blood for analysis, clean all the cuts, and set her broken fingers. By the time she finally finishes telling her tale for the last time, she is tired and hungry and sore. All she wants is pain killers, food, and bed. In that order.

"I think we've got everything we need for the time being, Director," Agent Wellman, who has been the Chief Inquisitor for the night, says with an air that suggests he really isn't done with her. The man rises to his feet and scoops up the pad of paper he's been making notes on. The three other agents he's brought with him take it as a sign that they are done for the time being and move toward the door. "We'll be in touch if we need to go over any part of your story."

"Of course, Agent Wellman." Maria nods, voice curt and tense. The man gives her a bland look that does not phase her at all, then turns and strides from the room. The agents with him file out the door behind him. 

"If you want my advice." Her attending doctor, a petite woman by the name of Hattersmith, begins with a hint of peevishness in her voice. She doesn't look at Maria while she jots a few things down on a prescription pad. "I'd have told him to bugger off a long time ago. I realize you have rules and protocols to follow, but that man has to be blind if he can't see that you've been through hell." 

"I really wanted to. But I can't play favorites. Not even with myself." Maria offers a grin to the woman. 

"Take it easy on those fingers now. They're going to need some time to heal. And you should take a couple days to rest up. I know you're a tough S.H.I.E.L.D. agent and you don't need to rest, but you deserve it after the last day or two that you've had." She rips the top sheet off the pad she's been using and hands it over to Maria. 

Maria glances at it and feels a smile break over her face. "This isn't what I was expecting for a prescription, Doc." 

"Maybe not, but you should still fill it. Doctor's orders." Doctor Hattersmith stands and heads toward a cabinet with a lock on it. She draws a key from her pocket and fits it into the slot, twists her wrist, and tugs the door open. A bottle of pills comes out of the cabinet, which she promptly locks again before returning the key to her pocket, and brings them over to Maria. "Painkillers. Take them to help you sleep." 

Maria considers turning them down, but she ends up slipping the small bottle into her pocket. "Thank you, Doc. I appreciate it." Sliding off the table, Maria crosses to the door and opens it to find a few anxious faces watching her. 

"Fill that prescription I gave you!" the woman calls after her. Maria lets go a chuckle and tucks the piece of paper into her pocket. 

"Yes, ma'am." The door closes behind her and leaves her in the hallway with her rescue party. "Let's go. I want a steak and my bed." 

~*~*~*~*~

The clatter of keys was loud in the silence of the room. Phil was on autopilot, his mind continually feeding his hands the necessary orders to keep him from coming to a grinding halt in his assigned tasks. That didn't stop him from letting his eyes stray to the man beside him to scope out just how into this strange job his partner was. Nick looked as enthused with their assigned duties as Phil felt. Despite appearing to be deeply engrossed in his task, Nick was definitely bored. That boded well for both of them finding the information Director Hill wanted.

It was not the strangest op they'd ever run. S.H.I.E.L.D. liked working in anonymity. It was, in fact, a mainstay of their operation. Most agents took it in stride. Phil generally had no problems with it. But there was something about this particular assignment that he couldn't put his finger on and it was leaving him distracted. 

He, Nick, Director Hill, and several other agents were attending some kind of conference in Europe. Not completely unusual, as Director Hill made every effort to attend such things. But this one had practically come out of nowhere. And Phil and Nick were not there to serve as bodyguards for Hill. Instead, she'd given them the task of doing some digging around. Off the record. S.H.I.E.L.D. had gotten hold of some tips about possible attacks being made by a small country run by a dictator with a serious Napoleon complex. So while she was down in the first meeting of the conference, he and Nick were stuck in a small safe house a few miles from the hotel, digging around the depths of the internet and talking to possible allies in the hopes of finding more information that corroborated their tips. And something about the whole thing felt off to him.

"Quit staring at me and get back to work. The sooner we get this shit done, the sooner we can go back home," Nick told him, never once bothering to look away from his computer screen.

"You don't think there's something really weird about this whole assignment?" Phil asked the other man. Nick's eyebrow went up at that, but he pushed away from the table just a bit and turned in his chair to stare at Phil. 

"Weird how?" Nick was giving Phil his complete attention. Which meant Nick thought it was strange, too.

"You don't think that Director Hill sending us here, to this house, to do some digging around away from everyone else isn't a little strange?" Phil paused to try and put his unease into words that were easily understood. Nick, he noted, was waiting patiently for him to continue. But continuing never happened. 

Just as Phil was gathering the right words, the ground beneath their feet shook hard enough to throw them from their chairs. Pictures fell from the walls. Their laptops slid from the table to thump to the floor. Cracks opened up in the plaster that covered both walls and ceiling, and pieces dropped to the ground. Clouds of dust were left floating on the air. The windows shattered, sending glittering shards of glass to the ground, and the sounds of sirens and screaming could be heard from beyond the walls of the house. 

"What the fuck was that?" Nick yelled, on his feet and weapon out in the blink of an eye. Phil followed suit, moving carefully toward the blown out windows. A glance showed him thick, dark smoke spiraling up over the tops of the building between the safe house and the hotel. Seeing the rising column left Phil feeling very unsettled. 

He pulled his phone from his pocket, intent on making a call to Director Fury to make sure that she was okay and that the sinking feeling in his gut was wrong. The slim cell rang in his hand, and a glance at the caller sent a flood of ice water rushing through his veins. "Morse? Talk to me?" 

The words brought Nick's attention his way and Phil held up a hand to let the other man know that he'd report as soon as he ended the call. "We just had some explosions here, Coulson. At least half a dozen people are dead and the Director was taken." 

"Taken? Taken what?" Phil asked. He didn't have to look to know that Nick was already packing up their gear. "Hostage?" 

"No. They took her. Shot the bodyguards she had with her and then took her. I think they might have used a tranq gun on her." Morse sounded like she was sure. And Phil could hear a clacking sound in the background that told him she was already working on security tapes. "She would have put up a fight otherwise. Maybe even would have killed a couple of them. I'm going over the tapes now to see if I can put together a timeline of exactly what happened." 

"Nick and I are on our way back to the hotel," Phil told her. 

"Good. I've already started looking for chatter. I'm going to try and figure out who it is that's behind this." There was silence for a moment, then Morse's voice came again. It was softer this time, quieter. "Something weird is going on here, Coulson. I can't put a finger on it, but something about this whole thing rubs me the wrong way." 

"Keep looking for information, Morse." Phil hung up the phone and looked up to find that Nick already had everything bagged up and ready to go. 

"What are you thinking, Cheese?" Nick asked, heaving the strap of a bag up onto his shoulder. 

Phil shot him an annoyed glance for the use of his old nickname. "I'm thinking we figure out who kidnapped Director Hill, we find them, and we get her back."

"And we shoot anyone who gets in our way," Nick responded.

"Fucking right."

~*~*~*~*~

Bobbi played the sequence from start to finish once again. The headphones helped block out the sound of people rushing to and fro around her, the constant chatter and whispers, so that she could concentrate on the audio. Maybe there was something to be heard that would help determine where the villain of the week had taken Director Hill. She was already running facial recognition software on another computer. A third system was searching for a group that might be wear the same style clothing as the kidnappers. 

She'd been at it since the explosions, since she'd called Coulson and Fury, since the men had carried a limp Director Maria Hill out of the conference room. Bobbi had made it inside just in time to see that last bit. She was still mad at herself for not being there to protect the director. It didn't matter that the four agents who had been doing just that were even now on their way to a S.H.I.E.L.D. cargo plane for transport back to a S.H.I.E.L.D. facility where there'd be an autopsy and next of kin would be notified and then there'd be a funeral. All that mattered was Director Hill was gone and Bobbi hadn't been there to stop it. 

The video feed ended with hissing static. She stopped the playback and tugged the headphones off. Frustration ate at her. This was getting her nowhere. Her gaze slid to the other two computers, checking their progress without any real hope of finding answers. A hand came to rest on her shoulder while another appeared before her holding a cup of coffee from one of the big name chains. Bobbi smiled as she looked up over her shoulder, her hand reaching out for the coffee. Fury looked slightly ruffled. Coulson was to the man's right, eyes locked on the system running facial recognition. 

"Get anything yet, Morse?" Fury asked her quietly. 

"Nothing. I'm waiting on someone to translate what the kidnappers said. I don't know what was going on, but I don't think anyone said any city names or anything like that." She sighed and took a drink of her coffee. It was sharp and a little bitter, which was exactly what she needed at the moment. 

"Where's Jenkins? I thought we brought him with because he spoke the language," Coulson asked.

"On his way back to headquarters as we speak. Jenkins was in the conference with Director Hill. He and the other three agents assigned to bodyguard duty were killed in the line of duty," Bobbi said softly. Coulson's expression twitched. Not much, but enough to let Bobbi know that he was as upset by this turn of events as she and everyone else was.

"Show us the video." Fury motioned to the screen before he with one hand. "Maybe it'll tell us something."

"I've been over it a dozen times already. There are no clues there," Bobbi replied even as she unplugged the headphones and started rolling the attack footage again. 

"Fresh eyes, Morse," Fury reminded her. She sat back in the chair and tried to ignore the presence of the two men as they loomed over her. Yet again, she stared at the screen while images from the conference flickered across it. The three of them watched as the members of the conference came in and settled into their seats. A handful of guards took up positions near the walls.

"Odd," Coulson said, softly enough that Bobbi barely heard him. "Hill has more bodyguards than anyone else."

Bobbi blinked and did a quick scan of the number of extra men that stood watch over the people at the table. Coulson was right. Which was very strange. Because she'd never been to or heard of one of these events where the heads of various delegations weren't being guarded by at least four of their best at all times. She was beginning to wonder how she'd missed that when Fury's voice dragged her from her thoughts. 

"Stop. Rewind and play that part back." There was an insistence in his tone that suggested he'd seen something else important. Bobbi did as told, fingers moving over the keys to roll the video back a minute or two and then start it up again. Bobbi recognized it as the moment before the first bomb exploded. "There. Stop it there!"

She did as he'd ordered and let her gaze skim over the scene before her. And then she saw it. And she could have kicked herself for missing it before. Several of the delegates were well out of their chairs even as the wall behind them was just starting to explode. Which meant exactly one thing. "Son of a bitch! They knew!" 

Coulson was already on his phone, demanding that the translator be sent up to them immediately. His gaze was locked to the screen running facial recognition, hoping for a hit. Something physical to get them started on retrieving Director Hill. Bobbi turned to face Fury. She was pretty sure that the dark look he wore was a reflection of the expression on her own face. "How did I miss this, Nick? How did I not see what was going on there?" 

"Because you're worried about her. We all are," he replied. There was no accusation in his tone. 

"I'm better than that, Nick. My training makes me better," Bobbi insisted. Fury settled a gentle hand on her shoulder to convey support and understanding. 

"Of course you're better than that, Bobbi. But personal feelings are involved and training can never fully overcome personal feelings." His tone was as gentle as his hand, filled with understanding. She appreciated his words, but she wasn't going to forgive herself that easily. "You were focused on figuring out who was behind the kidnapping."

"I still should have seen it," she insisted. No one contradicted her on that, for which she was grateful. She'd punish herself for missing this stuff later. For now, she had to concentrate on getting Director Hill back. They just needed something to help them in their quest.

Almost as if Fate had intervened, computers started beeping and flashing to let them know they had something. Bobbi checked and smiled to see they had a hit on one of the thug's faces. And there was also information on the uniform. Now all they needed was that translator...

~*~*~*~*~

Nick risked a glance over his shoulder to where Phil stood, back facing his partner and Glock bare in his hands. He looked relaxed about it all, as if he'd happily let a platoon of enemy guard pass him by without noticing, but Nick knew better. Phil Coulson was well schooled in making people think he was harmless. Nick never worried about his back when Phil was covering it. Phil was most definitely paying attention to their surroundings. He shifted his attention back to his section of the hallway and listened to the soft sounds of Bobbi working her way past guards toward the cell block. 

_"About to make contact. Be ready to make a run for it in sixty seconds."_ Bobbi whispered the words, voice low and quiet in Nick's ear. He glanced at Phil again to see that the man's stance had shifted in preparation of making their escape.

There was a squeak of hinges as a door opened. It was followed by a few grunts and some scuffling. _"Director Hill! It's me!"_ Bobbi's voice carried over the comm unit, followed closely by a faint mechanical hum that told Nick she'd disengaged her camo-tech. _"We're here to get you out."_

Nick couldn't hear what Director Hill said in return. Nor did it matter. Five seconds later, loud alarm claxons started going off. Which meant they had absolutely fuck all chance of getting out of there. Inching closer to Phil, he turned to look down the hallway toward the detention cells. "Ladies! We have company! Let's move!" 

He'd barely finished speaking when Morse appeared in the hallway with one of her arms around Director Hill's back. One of Hill's arms was over Morse's shoulder. Hill was limping and, even from a distance, Nick could see that holding a gun in her free hand was causing her pain. Bruises and scabs were visible against her skin. Looks liked they'd started asking questions as soon as they'd gotten her here. 

"Gentlemen," Hill said with a tired sigh. "Coulson, take point. Fury, bring up our rear. And get me the hell out of here." 

"Yes, ma'am," Coulson replied, already advancing slowly toward the hall that had brought them here. Nick took his place at the back of the group, gun up and trained behind them.

Going was slower than he liked. It was obvious that Maria was in pain and it made her slow. But she refused to let them stop and make things easier on her. Logically, he knew that she wasn't being stubborn without reason. They faster they made the exit and the quicker they got to the gate, the sooner they could get the hell out of there. But there was a disturbing tingle sliding up and down Nick's spine that said the shit was about to hit the fan. And that made him edgy. He hated when he had that feeling. 

They managed to make the yard surrounding the compound without running into more than a few of the goons working for whichever organization it was that had kidnapped Maria. There were a handful of bodies littering the ground in their wake, almost as good as a neon sign to point the enemy in the direction they'd gone. They should have moved the dead into places where they wouldn't be seen, but there hadn't been time. So Nick was still paying close attention to their rear when they broke the cover of the building and stepped out into a floodlit courtyard. "Shit." 

Coulson's soft expletive brought Nick's head around to see what stood between them and the gate. Shit was right. There had to be more than a hundred men blocking their way out. Every single one of them was holding a Kalashnikov in his hands. The men on the wall looked like they were carrying something bigger. Bigger and messier. They were royally screwed because there was no backup. There'd been no time to wait for backup to arrive. Shit, shit, and more shit. 

Someone in the middle of the group barked out an order in a language Nick couldn't name. Didn't matter. He knew an order to start shooting when he heard one. He took a second to figure out just how many of the bastards they could take down before they were gunned down, then lifted his weapon and took aim. An explosion in the middle of the group rocked the ground and nearly threw him off his feet. His comm unit crackled to life. _"Is this a private party or is anyone invited?"_

"Rhodey, you sonuvabitch!" Nick exclaimed with no small amount of joy. 

The Iron Patriot suit came into view and fired another volley into the rapidly dispersing crowd. _"Sorry I'm late. I took a wrong turn at Romania and had to turn around. Looks like you could use a hand."_

"Get us the hell out of here, Colonel Rhodes," Director Hill ordered seconds before she pulled the trigger and took one of the bad guys out. Nick watched the body drop with no small amount of appreciation on his face. 

_"I'll do what I can, ma'am. Where's your ride?"_ Rhodes asked. 

"Half a mile from the gate to the south," Coulson informed him. The man squeezed off a shot with absolute efficiency and took down a goon who had been attempting to sneak up to them. "We're going to need a hole big enough to drive a tank through. Director Hill is injured and not up to making a half-mile trek through the forest." 

_"Roger that. I'll have an exit for you in a few no time."_ Rhodes replied and swooped down toward one of the larger masses of bad guys. 

"Coulson, go steal something to get us out of here. I don't care if it's a jeep or a tank or a fucking donkey cart! Fury, we need more fire power. See if you can't bring us some of those AK-47s. And make sure you bring extra ammo. Morse, you and I are going to take up a protected position and give them some cover fire," 

"Yes, ma'am!" Bobbi responded. Nick and Phil gave nods and both went off in to complete their assigned tasks. They were accompanied by the sounds of men firing uselessly at Rhodey's suit, by the sounds of loud explosions that rocked the ground beneath his feet going off, and by the screams of those who were injured and dying. Chaos reigned around them. The thrill of the hunt pumped wildly through Nick's veins. 

They were getting out of this mess. They were getting out of this mess and they were going home. He could kiss Morse for having the foresight to call in Rhodes. Once they were safe, maybe he'd do just that... 

~*~*~*~*~

He stared at the door leading to medical and frowned. They'd been in there a long damn time. Knowing the way red tape worked with S.H.I.E.L.D., he had no doubt that the goon squad that he'd seen enter was asking Maria the same questions about sixty thousand times. Chances were good they'd be there for hours yet. 

Sighing, he let his gaze skim around the small gathering waiting outside the medical wing. Bobbi was absently twirling something between her fingers. It looked roughly like one of her staves, but it appeared to be made of plastic. Agent Phil Coulson held a tablet in his hands, his face illuminated by the bright screen as he stared at it. Chances were good the man was reading a report of some kind. Agent Nick Fury leaned against the wall in a deceptively relaxed pose that would make anyone who knew him that he wasn't tense at all. It was an absolute lie and everyone there knew it. "How much longer do you think it's going to be?" 

"Soon. I'm pretty sure her patience is wearing thin. They've been at it for far too long already," Coulson responded without looking away from his tablet. "Thanks for the assist, Colonel Rhodes. I don't think we'd have gotten out of that mess if you hadn't shown up just when you did." 

"Don't thank me. Thank Agent Morse for calling me in to assist you," Rhodey motioned toward Bobbi. She flipped the plastic cylinder she held and flashed a smile at them. 

"I knew we were going to need more help than we had. Colonel Rhodes was nearby and said he had no problems joining us on our mission." 

"Speaking of, I owe you a kiss for that," Nick said, turning his attention toward her. Bobbi turned a broad, full smile the man's way.

"You owe me so much more than a kiss, Agent Fury," she returned, words dripping with an extra helping of sass. He shot a grin toward her before returning to his relaxed pose that was filled with tension. Of course they'd all given their own statements to the question askers in a rather quick, group debrief. It had all been pretty straight forward.

Upon discovering the name of the organization that had kidnapped Director Hill, Agent Morse had put together a plan to rescue Hill from her captors. Given the nature of the group and what was thought to be their objective (a terrorist group calling loosely affiliated with A.I.M. that had planned on extracting the location of every base and installation S.H.I.E.L.D. had), Agent Morse had decided that they couldn't wait for a large assault team to gather. So she and Agents Fury and Coulson had gone in alone. And she'd called Rhodey because she'd known getting in would be easy but getting out would be murder. Naturally he'd joined them. Because had Maria Hill been compromised, it might have spelled disaster for the free world. It was his duty to maintain order and protect the free world. 

"Ten bucks says Wellman looses his job before the week's out," Fury said, gaze locked on the door across from them. 

"I've got twenty. And I don't think he'll last the week," Coulson replied. He still didn't look away from his tablet. It was refreshing to be around people who could divide their attention between two things. 

"Really, guys?" Bobbi asked with a roll of her eyes. "Wellman's just doing his job. And she knows that. And I'll put in fifty that says he keeps his job, but he gets demoted to training juniors coming in from other agencies who think they can handle it here." 

Rhodey chuckled and shook his head. He'd bet even money that Bobbi had the right of it. But there was no way he was going to put money into their pool. Down that path lay madness and he damned well knew it. Instead, he thought over what he'd come into at the compound. There'd been a moment when he'd felt a swell of panic because the four of them had been pinned down without cover. And they'd been a moment away from death. Rhodey was willing to admit to himself that he maybe had used a little too much fire power to keep them from dying right at that moment. And then it had turned into a race to keep the remaining bad guys too busy to stop Coulson from retrieving a vehicle. Too busy to keep Nick from finding the requested weapons and ammunition. Rhodey had been all over the place, explosions throwing people around like rag dolls. And then there'd been a beat up old Jeep moving at speed toward the gate. 

He'd given them an opening big enough to drive two tanks through. 

He'd covered their six all the way back to their hidden quinjet, and then again as they'd flown toward the helicarrier. It had apparently already been en route to their location. He could have left once the quinjet had landed on the carrier and the four of them had been safe. But he'd landed and stayed. Because he'd just had to know.

~*~*~*~*~

Maria offers them a smile as she pulls the door to medical closed behind her. She's still limping, still tired and in pain. Still hungry. But she's pleased to see all four faces waiting for her in the hallway. The fingers on her right hand are taped together to prevent her trying to use them. It's an uncomfortable feeling and it will take some getting used to. But she's home and relatively safe and she enjoys knowing that her people like her enough to ensure her safety. "Steak dinner is waiting for you in your quarters, ma'am," Coulson informs her. He turns off and tucks away a tablet before offering her a faint smile she knows is reserved for only certain people. 

"Allow us to escort you," Fury offers solicitously. She gives him a smile and watches as he pulls himself away from the wall. He's tense, though she can see that some of it has already started to leak out of him. 

"Colonel Rhodes, I would love to thank you for your assistance today." She gives a smile to Rhodey, who returns it and offers his arm. Any other time and she'd turn him down. But she's glad to be back on the helicarrier and in one piece, so she slips her arm into his and allows him to help her up the hall. The other three fall into place behind them and she is suddenly surrounded with warm, tender feelings.

They move up the corridors in silence, Rhodey taking it easy in deference to her slow gait. They pass several other agents, all of whom nod at her or welcome her back. The halls begin to empty out as they move from the more widely used areas of the helicarrier to the private quarters. Few people can be found in these sections at this time of day, granting them easy and unencumbered passage. When they finally reach her door, she feels a moment of hesitation. She smiles and digs out of her pocket the piece of paper handed to her by the doctor. She hands it over to Rhodey so that he can see what is written on its surface. 

"What are you supposed to take?" he asks, smile spreading across his face.

Bobbi reaches out to pluck the paper from Rhodey's hand. "Doctor Hattersmith is the best physician working for S.H.I.E.L.D.. Don't ever let her leave," the woman says and hands the prescription over to Coulson. All he does upon reading it is smirk. He immediately turns it over to Nick. 

"You know, these look like important orders. Issued by a doctor. And you should never disobey important orders from your doctor." 

Maria smiles. Laughs. Opens the door to her private quarters and steps inside. She steps back from the door and allows each of them to file in. As soon as the last in line, Rhodey, is through the door, Maria pushes it shut and lets the four of them crowd around her. Each one of them kisses her in turn, kisses that are full of heat and promise and pure pleasure that she's home and safe. As Maria's mouth meets Nick's, she plucks the paper from his hand and blindly leaves it resting on a table behind her. Hands stroke her body tenderly, pull at the clothes she wears. Maria takes a moment to look over at the bright white rectangle resting on the gleaming wooden surface of the table. 

_Take two (or four) and don't call me in the morning._


End file.
